Teaching myself to dream
by fairy-dust3
Summary: HD SLASH (post Hogwarts)- rated for later chapters - Harry is caught cutting himself and admitted to a muggle treatment facility. There, he is reunited with someone he thought he would never see again. CHAP 4 UP
1. Beautiful Lyric

I know I already have three Harry/Draco stories on the go and that two of them have come to a stand still but I got this idea and wanted to pursue it. I am not done with the other three stories – far from it – but I also want to try this one.

This is set in the January after Harry etc. have left Hogwarts. Sirius was dead but was then brought back...somehow...don't think that's too important. Just know he's alive and with Remus.

For the past four months Harry has been living with Sirius and Remus but, when he is discovered cutting himself, is admitted to a treatment facility in the muggle world.

In this treatment facility, Harry is reunited with someone he was almost certain he would never see again and meets a new friend who helps him to help himself.

Dodgy summary and plot line, I know, but bear with me, it could work...I think.

The title of the story is a song by Katy Rose.

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**1. Beautiful Lyric**

"Everyone, we have a new arrival who will be joining our group. This is Harry Potter."

The woman, Jackie, smiled at Harry and motioned for him to sit down in the empty seat half way round the circle.

Shrugging his broad shoulders encased in a black sweatshirt, Harry made his way to the spindly, yellow plastic chair and settled himself on it as comfortably as he could.

"Now, Harry, why don't you tell us all a little about yourself?" suggested Jackie, running a hand through her cropped, red hair.

He brushed a strand of jet-black hair from his emerald green eyes and shrugged again.

"Like what?" he questioned, scratching his knee through a hole in his navy jeans.

"Anything you want."

"Um...I live, well normally anyway, in London with my godfather. I finished school last July and I'm taking a gap year. Um...I dunno. I like music. Playing it, listening to it. S'bout it really."

"Well, thanks," smiled Jackie, jotting something on the clipboard she had resting in her lap. "Now," she continued, addressing the entire group, "any volunteers to talk about what they've been up to this week?"

Harry let his eyes roam around the room to look at the other nine teenagers sitting in the circle. Not one of them was volunteering, but all sitting silently.

"Lyric?" urged Jackie, focusing on the person to Harry's left.

"Don't feel like talking," replied a soft voice from behind a veil of dirty blonde hair.

While Jackie began to encourage others to speak, and listen to them if they did so, Harry let his eyes linger on Lyric.

Her hair fell in soft waves to the middle of her back, which was covered by a white tank top, over baggy combats. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them as if holding them to the chair, which she probably was, seeing as the chairs were so small.

There was a multicoloured, beaded bracelet around her left wrist and a silver ring with a dragon on around her right thumb. Her blood red nail varnish was chipped.

As if she could feel Harry's eyes on her, Lyric rolled her head on her shoulder and, through strands of hair, looked at him with hazel eyes. The corners of her pale pink lips turned up in a small smile, which Harry returned.

Lyric's head rolled back and she rested it on her knees, swaying slightly from side to side and humming quietly to herself.

"Okay, we're out of time," announced Jackie, standing up. "But it's been good. You're all definitely making progress. And I'll see you next week at the same time."

Following Jackie's lead, the others in the room all stood up and left, but Harry remained in his seat, still watching Lyric, who showed no sign of being aware that everyone else had departed. The only thing that made Harry certain she was not asleep was the soft humming and gentle swaying.

Suddenly she stopped and looked at Harry, her eyes penetrating his.

"I'm Harry."

She smiled her smile again. "I'm Lyric."

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Pah – it's short and kinda...pah...but there you go.

This is Harry/Draco so don't worry yourselves.

Review please.


	2. Angel Face

Thanks to all the people who reviewed the first chapter but in answer to many of your...ponderings...Lyric is not related to Draco, nor is she Draco.

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**2. Angel Face**

When Lyric finally decided to leave the room in which group was held, Harry followed her as she moved silently down the halls into a room containing a television, a few videos, some books and some games.

She paused for a moment, swaying slightly on her feet, before opting to sit in a blue armchair, which definitely looked like it, had seen better days. Lyric curled her feet up under her and looked at Harry through a curtain of hair.

Harry settled himself onto the sofa opposite the armchair and looked right back at Lyric, trying to get a clear look at her face.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Lyric hummed softly to herself, before answering in her singsong tone, "A month, or two. The days blend together."

"Oh."

"I wish I knew what day it was. My brother's birthday is soon, I'm sure."

"Why don't you ask one of the attendants for a calendar or something?"

Lyric laughed. Harry was sure it was at him, as if he was being stupid, but it didn't come across as patronising.

"They don't care. They all think we're crazy. They all think I'm crazy." She looked at Harry again. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Um...I don't really know you well enough to make a judgement on that," he answered quickly.

She smiled at him and continued. "Okay, well I'm here for the same thing you are."

She held out her pale arms and turned them over, showing Harry the criss-cross scars that lay upon them.

"Do you think you're crazy?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not crazy."

Lyric's smile grew bigger. "Then do you think I'm crazy?"

"I don't think you are. No."

She giggled and lay down in the chair, curling her legs up to her chest, her hair, for once, pushed back from her gorgeous face.

"Well, all the attendants do." She frowned. "Except one."

"Except one?"

"Yes. He's different to the others. He's beautiful." Her slim fingers traced intricate patterns in the air, her eyes following their ever move.

"I don't remember his name. It's something strange. But he's got the face of an angel. And he treats me like just a girl. He brings me magazines and jellybeans and sometimes he brings a CD player so I can listen to music for a while."

She moved her hand to the armchair and carried on her drawing.

"He's younger than all the others too. Angel face is eighteen. I think. How old are you?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm eighteen. What about you?"

"Seventeen years, four months, seventeen days, six hours, twenty three minutes and four seconds, five seconds, six seconds-"she shook her head. "The seconds are too hard to count. They go by too quickly."

"Yea, that happens."

Lyric lifted herself from the chair and moved over to sit on the couch next to Harry. Crossing her legs underneath her, she ran a finger down Harry's cheek.

"You're magic," she whispered conspiratorially.

Harry flinched slightly, panic rising in his stomach. "W-what?"

"There's something magical about you. You glow."

The green-eyed boy allowed himself to smile and relax. "Thank you."

The blonde girl simply smiled and moved her hands in front of her face, apparently entranced.

"Lyric?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you know that...what I do to myself?"

"Too hot to be wearing sleeves."

Harry looked down at his top and pulled his sleeves down right over his hands.

The door opened and a cheery voice rang out through the room.

"Anyone order a bag of jellybeans?"

Lyric grinned and leant over the back of the sofa.

"Angel face!"

She squatted on the back of the sofa like a cat and 'angel face' enveloped her in his arms.

"Hey Ricky. You okay?"

Lyric nodded. "I made a new friend."

She looked at Harry, a worried look suddenly on her face. "Right?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yea."

With a face like a child's on Christmas morning, Lyric turned back to the attendant.

"This is my new friend, Harry."

'Angel face' came round to the other side of the sofa and his smile fell as he looked at Harry.

"Potter?"

Harry frowned, his mind spinning.

"Malfoy?"

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This is very strange me thinks. Also very short but I can't seem to write long chapters which is annoying.

Please review.


	3. Away with the pixies

Thanks to everyone who reviewed – you were all so encouraging which is great because I really wasn't sure about this fic.

In answer to some comments, no, Draco isn't going to be a heartless asshole in this fic like he is in a lot of others, and the reasons for this will be explained throughout the course of the story.

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**3. Away with the pixies**

"_Potter?"_

"_Malfoy?"_

The two boys looked at each other in a shocked silence, neither believing the person in front of them was actually there.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"I work here," explained Draco. "As I'm sure Lyric here has been telling you."

Lyric smiled and nodded, twining a strand of hair around her fingers and nibbling the corner off a pink jellybean.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the silver-eyed boy, turning Harry's own question back on him.

"I – uh – I..." Harry sighed deeply and shrugged. "I've been admitted here."

He lowered his dark head, expect the infamous Malfoy comments and sneers, but was shocked when Draco just tutted and sat in the armchair.

"So you're the new guy all the nurses are twittering on about," he stated in a kind, low tone. "You might wanna lock your door at night or you'll wake up with a stranger in your bed."

"Not allowed to lock the doors," muttered Lyric, possibly to herself. "They think we'll hurt ourselves if they do."

Draco chuckled and rubbed Lyric's bare arm. "I was joking. But don't worry. It wasn't very funny."

"I like jokes when they're funny."

"I know you do Ricky. I'm gonna find some more for you."

Draco looked up at the clock and rose to his feet.

"Come on, time for you personal, Ric," he said, taking the girl's hand and gently pulling her up.

Lyric smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek.

"Bye bye."

"Bye Lyric. I'll come find you later, 'kay?"

"Harry, can you hang around here? I gotta walk Lyric but then I want to talk you," explained Draco.

The green eyed boy nodded. "Sure. I'll just sit here."

Draco smiled kindly at him again, before leading Lyric from the room, leaving Harry alone on the haggard blue sofa in a new place.

What was Draco Malfoy doing working as an attendant? In a treatment facility? In the muggle world? What was Draco Malfoy doing working, period?

He was loaded beyond belief, heir to the richest family in the magical world. He despised all those with impure blood, blood tainted with scent of despair that was muggle.

Maybe he'd had some kind of epiphany and realised that muggles were just as good as wizarding folk. But, even so, that still didn't explain why he was being kind to Harry.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again and Draco's smiling face re-entering. He appeared to have lost his trademark smirk, which disfigured his pale, angular face, and, instead, it was replaced by a bright, genuine smile. The smile transfigured his entire complexion. The boyish grin made him beautiful. It was easy to see why Lyric called him 'Angel face'.

He had stopped slicking his hair back and let strands fall over his liquid silver eyes. Those eyes, that before, had been cold and empty to Harry, holding only hate and disgust, now shone with compassion and happiness.

"Hey," he said, his once cruel tone now cheery and warm.

"Hi," replied Harry, somewhat wary of Draco's new character.

The blond settled himself back into the armchair and yawned widely, one hand over his mouth.

"Sorry. Didn't get much sleep."

His eyes looked Harry up and down and he smiled again.

"I'd ask how you are but maybe that's a bit of a dumb question."

This comment caused Harry to smile a little. "I'm actually not that bad. You?"

"I'm okay."

Draco brushed back his hair with a sweep of his hand and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking intently at Harry.

"Why are you here?"

"Are you a therapist?" demanded Harry, his barriers automatically coming up.

Draco shook his head.

"No I'm not a therapist. But I'm the only person here under the age of thirty except for the patients. I'm not trying to find some psychological reason as to why you're here. That's not what I get paid for. I just wanted to know the actual, physical reason for why you're here."

He shrugged his shoulders in his blue T-shirt.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But I think you'll find I'm able to understand more than you might think."

"Cutting," Harry muttered quickly, feeling his face redden as he did so.

He was ashamed that he had gone so low as to need to dig blood from his own flesh to be able to feel some kind of emotional release.

Draco nodded, understandingly, seemingly pondering his thoughts.

"I know we loathed each other at school," began Draco, "but I hope we can get over that. I'm here to help you if you need to talk. Not as a doctor or a professionally trained person, but as an eighteen year old boy. As a friend if we can manage it. And you can talk to me about anything. Magical and such like."

Harry smiled and relaxed, his skin cooling down. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. I'd also like it if you could find it in your heart to call me Draco."

"Only if you call me Harry."

The blond held out his hand to the dark haired boy, and they shook, smiling at each other.

"Good. I see you met Lyric."

Harry nodded. "Yea. She's...she's not really with it, is she?"

Draco shook his head, sadly this time. "She's been through a lot."

"She showed me she cut herself. But...in a way she's, I dunno, more with it than some people."

"Lyric's very perceptive. Most people just ignore her. Think she's crazy, which, admittedly, she most likely is. And that's sad. But she's not stupid. She knows more than we would all like to think."

"She told me I was magical. That I glow."

Draco smiled a cute, lop sided smile, looking almost shy. "Well she's right."

To his consternation, Harry felt his cheeks flush again and buried his chin in the neck of his sweater.

"Why are you here, Draco?"

The former Slytherin sighed softly and leant back in the chair.

"I don't hate muggles. Or half bloods. Never have. But I was a Malfoy and had to live up to my families, and everyone elses, expectations of me. Had I let on that I'm not totally heartless and into this pure blood shit then I would've been disowned."

He smiled ruefully.

"I got way too accustomed to living the life of Riley to have it all ripped away from me. But now my father's in jail and my mother's...somewhere, and we've left school and the war's over, I can be myself. And I want to help people. People like Lyric. People like you."

"Wow," breathed Harry. "You're one hell of an actor!"

Draco laughed. "Thanks."

The saviour of the wizarding world bit his legs and nervously picked once again at the hole in his jeans.

"Can I ask you something?" Harry ventured.

"Sure, what's up?"

"What actually happens here? I mean, what do we have to do?"

"Group meets once a week. You would've had that today. Um...you'll have one on one sessions with a therapist three times a week. Each session lasts an hour. There's a gym, study hall, library. Course, you have to be monitored in all of these."

"Why?"

"People with weight issues have to be supervised in the gym so they don't work themselves too hard, or the ones that need to lose weight so they actually work themselves. And the others in case someone has things they aren't allowed or tries to hurt themselves or something."

Harry frowned. "People can find things to hurt themselves with in the library?"

"You'd be surprised. One girl scratched the fuck out of her wrists with a loose staple under one of the chairs in there."

Draco bit his lip and blushed a pale pink.

"Sorry, I didn't think 'bout what I was saying."

"Don't worry." Harry rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to survive in here."

The blond moved to sit next to the other boy on the sofa and hesitantly rubbed his arm.

"I'm going to help you. 'Kay? You ever need to talk or anything, I'm gonna be here."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I gotta go get Lyric and then I have stuff to do. But I'll come find you later."

Harry shrugged, still not lifting his head and Draco squeezed his shoulder.

"I promise."

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I think that chapter was longer than my others. Woohoo! Not that it's hard though.

Review please.


	4. Blackbirds singing in the dead of night

A few people asked if I had read the book 'Cut' – I have and the treatment facility in this story is based on that. The thing about a girl cutting herself with a staple on a chair is also taken from the book.

Quickly – if anyone can find the reference to your beloved author in chapter three you get a cookie!

_**Kazillion** – could you please email me or something because I would greatly appreciate your help in parts of this story_

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**4. Blackbird singing in the dead of night**

"Blackbirds singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life."

Harry smiled as he listened to Lyric sing, recognising the classic Beatles number, remembering his Aunt Petunia playing the record repeatedly when her and Uncle Vernon drank a little too much red wine. Aged only six, Harry had been taken with the song and had learnt every word.

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

Lyric giggled and looked at Harry through the ever-present curtain of hair as he softly sang the next line of the song.

"You like the Beatles?" he asked, taking a black jelly baby from the packet she offered.

"My daddy used to listen to it. When I was very little."

"Yea. My aunt and uncle used to listen to it. I used to sit on the stairs with my cousin and hear them and their friends singing and laughing."

"Why are you so sad?" inquired Lyric, leaning closer to Harry.

"I'm not sad. I'm just thinking is all."

"You said you live with your godfather. Why?"

Harry bit his lip, contemplating whether to lie or to be honest.

'_What harm can it do to tell her the truth?'_

"My parents died when I was very small. I lived with my aunt and uncle until I was sixteen and then I moved in with my godfather."

"Oh. Do you miss your parents?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes. But I don't really remember them so it's not quite as bad."

"Hmm."

Lyric lay her head in Harry's lap.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see."

"What about your family, Lyric? What are they like?"

"My brother could play the song on the guitar as well. He used to come into my room and play his guitar and we would sing. He had a lovely voice."

"What about your parents?"

"All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free."

Clearly, Lyric was not going to answer the question. The avoidance was blatantly obvious, so Harry settled for stroking back her blonde locks and humming to himself.

Once again, the door opened and Draco walked in, the smile that Harry was becoming more and more accustomed to firmly in place.

"Ricky, there's a phone call from you. There's an attendant outside to take you to the desk," he said, looking down affectionately at the girl.

Lyric sat up and with a smile to both boys, floated out of the room, still humming the Beatles song.

"You alright Harry?" asked Draco, sitting next to the other boy.

"I'm okay."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm fine. I really am. But its just Lyric. Why is she here?"

"I thought she showed you her scars."

Harry nodded and crossed his legs on the sofa, turning to Draco.

"Yea, she did. But why did she do that? I mean, do you know?"

Draco mimicked Harry's seating position on the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I know...some things about Lyric. But I can't tell you."

"But Dra-"Harry protested, but the blond held up his hand to stop him.

"It's confidential information on a patient. If it gets found out that I told you I could lose my job. We're not allowed to tell patients about other patients."

"Then don't tell me attendant to patient. Tell me friend to friend. Surely there are no rules saying that an attendant can't tell a friend about a patient."

"I'll tell you what I know, only because Lyric seems to like you and you and her seem to be becoming friends. But you keep it to yourself. Promise?"

"I promise," smiled Harry.

Draco sighed loudly and settled back against the cushions.

"Lyric never knew her father. He left her and her mother when she was a couple of months old. Her mum remarried when Lyric was six and Lyric's step-father used to hit her."

"Didn't her mum try to stop it?" asked Harry, his brow creased, eyes filled with concern, all his attention on Draco.

"Her mum was always too pissed or too high to even get out of bed. When Lyric was fifteen she ran away from home and moved in with her boyfriend at the time, who was twenty. He used to beat the shit out of her, call her names, tell her she was worthless."

"When did she start...cutting?"

Draco shrugged. "I dunno. I assume it started when she was thirteen or fourteen but it's hard for anyone to tell a she was always so damn secretive."

"If no one knew then how did she end up getting admitted here?"

"Her asshole of a boyfriend raped her one night, then kicked her out the apartment. Some woman found Lyric collapsed naked by a dumpster, covered in cuts and bruises, and huge gashes through her wrists. After she was let out of the hospital she was sent here."

"Holy shit," muttered Harry, his hands hovering near his mouth on his stricken face.

"I know," Draco agreed sadly. "And now she's so totally fucked beyond belief that she'll never be able to get out of here and live a normal life."

They sat in silence, both looking at their jean clad legs, until Draco placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked deep into his emerald eyes.

"But you can, Harry. You can deal with whatever it is that caused you to hurt yourself and you can leave here and you can just keep living."

Draco's voice burned with so much passion and hope that Harry had to break the eye contact.

"Please."

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The song that Lyric and Harry are singing is 'Blackbird' originally sung by the Beatles but I personally prefer the Sarah McLachlan version (watch the amazing film I Am Sam in which this song is used). The title of this chapter also comes from the song.

On Sunday I am going to Reading Festival (YAY!!!) to see bands such as Greenday, Lost Prophets, The Streets, Placebo, Yellowcard, Auf Der Maur, Supergrass, the Von Bondies..........50 cent?

There was really no reason for that but I'm just so excited. 4 DAYS TO GO

Anyway, please review.


	5. Author's Note

I have not abandoned this story. I know I haven't updated in ages and I'm really sorry, but I will update a.s.a.p.

First, I was at Reading, which was awesome btw, me and my mates were on TV. Then I got ill and was sick and flu-ish and just yuck.

I got an A in my French GCSE which is amazing 'cause I was sure I was going to fail.

Now I'm back at school in my final year and within the first few days they have literally launched work at us. I mean, I have 3 pieces of coursework to be in on WEDNESDAY!! And then others in a few weeks. Also, I'm taking a college course and so am doing two extra hours of work a week and studying for 9 GCSE's and one AS level.

However, there is one plus. I'm seeing Lost Prophets for the 4th time in November – which is awesome 'cause they are amazing live.

Um...yea, I think that's about it. So don't give up on this story or any of my others as I will update as soon as I can, I promise, and you can hold me to that.

Love, kisses, and fairy dust

Riley


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